Page 167 of Dance of Defiance
“Guy? Girl?”
“Guy,” I grunt.
“If I were to draw from your usual list of why things don’t work out…” She starts counting on her fingers. “Too gay? Too clingy? Too femme?—”
“The opposite,” I mutter. “On all counts.”
Brooklyn arches a brow. “Well… That’s different.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
“So....?”
I take a slow drag, then exhale. “It’s…a whole thing.”
“Is the opposite oftoo gaytoostraight?”
I make a face. “Something like that.”
“Ishe straight? Because…”
I shrug. “I mean…yes, but no.”
Brooklyn looks confused.
“Heclaimshe’s straight,” I grunt. “Which would be easier to believe if he didn’t have sex with me all the fucking time.”
She grins. “I see.” Then her brow furrows. “So, basically, he’s not out.”
“Not even to himself,” I mutter.
She makes a face, then reaches over to squeeze my hand. “I’m sorry, buddy. That’s…” She shrugs. “Sucky. You deserve someone who will openly be with you.”
I smile wryly. “You think?”
“Uh,yeah?”
I chuckle as I take a drag. “If you say so.”
It’s the same reason you’re so proud of never having anythingrealor meaningful. You wouldn't have to risk anyone sticking around long enough to see how fucked up you are.
It’s easier than admitting no one could actually love you.
Icy coldness slithers through my veins, and my jaw clenches tightly.
“Hey.”
I glance up when Brooklyn touches my arm, her eyes locked on me. “Idosay so,” she says softly. “You deserve happiness.” She smiles wryly. “I hope you realize that.”
I smile as I take her hand and squeeze it. “Thanks, B.”
She shrugs. “Don’t mention it. I mean, c’mon!” She elbows me playfully. “You’re awesome!”
I shrug. “Iampretty fucking awesome, right?”
She snorts a laugh. “There’s that ego. I was missing it.”
She brings the still-smoldering cigarette to her lips and attempts another drag. Instantly, she turns green.
